


Don't Need No Bible

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: Reaper
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-27
Updated: 2008-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's your definition of dirty, baby? C-c-c-c-come on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Need No Bible

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Sex Is Fun!Challenge-A-Thon Thing!](http://romanticalgirl.livejournal.com/574994.html). Sock and I are humming "I Want Your Sex" by George Michael.
> 
> This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works. 

The box thumped against his arm and he banged his knuckles on it. "Shut up in there."

A woman in big sunglasses scowled at him. Right, like she'd never seen anyone dropping off a box-o-demon at the Department of Motor Vehicles to be shipped back to hell. He ignored her and tapped the box harder, beating out 'I Want Your Sex' as he waited in line. Finally he reached the front.

"And a Happy Valentine's Day it is, Gladys."

"Place the vessel on the mat."

He slid the sealed box through the opening in the window, but didn't release it. "You may have noticed I'm here sans sidekicks."

"I thought you were the sidekick."

"You are a feisty one, Gladys. Yes, you are."

She tugged on the box. "Place the vessel on the mat."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me."

"I am." She tugged harder. "Place the vessel on the mat."

He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the counter. His breath fogged the plexiglass separating them, nearly obscuring her horns, and he hummed a few more bars of the song. "Then allow me to get right down to it. Are you free this evening?"

She sighed heavily. "I'm a demon enslaved to the DMV. I am never free."

"Free is a lifestyle choice, Gladys."

"You're a moron. Place the vessel on the mat."

He grinned. "You're responding to me. I can tell." He stroked his hand across his beard then winked. "I can always tell." He exhaled, clouding the glass, then traced a crooked heart in it. "What do you say, succubus of my loins?"

"Place the vessel on the mat."

"Your lips say place the vessel on the mat but your eyes say take me, I'm yours."

"My lips say if you don't let go of the vessel I'll send your hand to hell with it."

"Hell?" He licked his lips then rubbed his index finger across them, moistening it. He drew it down his neck, lingering at the ragged tear at the neck of his Care Bears t-shirt. "Is that what you call your most private of places?"

Gladys tore the vessel from his fingers and watched silently as it descended to the netherworld.

He snatched his fingers back before they could somehow be sucked to Hell with the box. "You know you want me, Gladys." He rested his chin on both hands and looked up at her. "Even demons must get lonely."

"We-e-e-ll," she drew out the word, thinking. "It isn't as if there's much on TV tonight."

"There is not," he agreed. "Hey, that writer's strike thing, hell business?"

She reached out under the opening and grabbed his arm in her hand then squeezed until it hurt. "Don't ask questions, Wysocki."

"Ooh, Gladys." He hissed as he rubbed the marks on his arm. "So it's like that, is it?" He reached through the opening and rested his hand on hers. "How's this work? Do I call you mommy?"

She lifted his hand to her mouth, licked his middle finger, then bit down hard before releasing him. With his free hand, he adjusted his pants.

"I get off at five. Be at my house at six."

"Yes, Gla--" Her eyes flashed red, she waved her finger from side to side, and he gulped. "Mommy."

"And don't shower before you come over tonight." She licked her lips and caressed her right horn. "I like my boys dirty."

His voice quivered as he answered.

"That's my good boy." She pushed the closed sign forward and began to pull the shade down. "Don't be late. If you're late you'll need to be punished."

He adjusted his pants once again and whispered over his shoulder at the closed window. "Six-thirty it is. Six-thirty it is, indeed. Mommy."


End file.
